


stay right here

by the_other_lutece_sister



Series: propunk one-shots [9]
Category: Orphan Black (TV)
Genre: F/F, Smut, non-canon, propunk - Freeform, straight-up bangin', well...not STRAIGHT-up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-30
Updated: 2016-11-30
Packaged: 2018-09-03 06:27:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8700994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_other_lutece_sister/pseuds/the_other_lutece_sister
Summary: Sarah is a bartender, Rachel tips well...also they bang.happy birthday natalie!!





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [piggy09](https://archiveofourown.org/users/piggy09/gifts).



_ then. _

 

Sarah was wiping the bar when the other bartender muttered  _ oh fuck it’s the überbitch.  _ She looked up to see a woman dressed in white with a blonde bob that looked like it could cut your throat striding into the bar, like she owned it. Possibly she did. Sarah didn’t care who signed her paychecks, as long as she got them. 

The woman caught Sarah’s eye, tilted her head, and Sarah nodded in response. 

“I’ll take her table,” she offered. “Tips are worth it.”

The other girl snorted. “You’re the  _ only _ one who gets tips from her, Manning.”

Sarah grinned. “Oi, I can’t help being so charming, can I?” She fluttered her eyelashes mockingly, then grabbed a frosted martini glass from one of the fridges.

The customer was a regular at Le Cygne, an eclectic bar hidden down an alleyway - one of those bars where you had to know  _ someone  _ before you could even find the right door. It made for an interesting mix of patrons - the very rich, the very talented, the very beautiful. The staff tended towards the more down-to-earth types - a good mix of tattoos, piercings, and shaved heads to titillate the upper crust who still found that sort of thing dangerously thrilling. 

The cocktail shaker was ice cold in Sarah’s hands. After she poured the clear liquid into the glass, she rolled it around the back of her neck, already sweating lightly in the heat that sidled it’s way into the bar, despite the sophisticated climate control system. She slid two olives onto a gold-plated toothpick and dropped it in, then placed the glass on a tray and headed towards the private booths.

Balancing the tray carefully, she rapped on the closed folding door, and announced “Your drink, ma’am,”, making her accent a touch rougher than usual. She pulled the door open and stepped inside. The woman looked up from her phone, gestured for Sarah to put the drink down, then continued typing at speed. Shaking her head, she finished and pushed the phone away.  _ Fools  _ she sighed, and reached out for her drink, silver nails gleaming. Her eyes were dark over the edge of the glass as she looked at Sarah, taking a generous sip and swallowing with an imperceptible shudder. There was a slowly retreating anger, and a rapidly building hunger in them. 

Sarah gave the table a quick wipe, and stood with her hip cocked, tossing her mane of hair over her shoulder. 

“Can I get you anything else, ma’am?” She packed as much suggestiveness into the words as possible. She might make the best drinks in the city, but she knew that wasn’t the only reason this one kept coming back. Sarah had noticed the lingering looks, the way her brows arched the first time she heard Sarah’s accent, the generous tips...oh yes. Sarah knew why she kept returning, and what the hell? She was gorgeous, in that ice-queen kind of way, she stank of power and influence, she was rich, and she was bored, that was pretty clear. Sarah had been pretty bored herself lately. And you never knew when a friend in high places could come in handy...especially if they were willing to go low occasionally. 

The woman took another long, silent sip, staring at her all the while. Then her lips curved in an approximation of a smile. 

“Lock the door,” she said.

  
  


                                                          ⟴ ⟴ ⟴ ⟴

 

She had a name, of course. Rachel Duncan. Her educated, upper-class British accent grated on every nerve Sarah had, but the contrast between it and Sarah’s verging-on-cockney voice seemed to amuse her no end. Sarah didn’t know what she did during the week, even after all this time - high end lawyer? Elite CEO? Jetsetting supervillain? No one at the bar knew. She didn’t really care. All she knew was that on Friday nights, Rachel Duncan did Sarah. 

 

                                                          ⟴ ⟴ ⟴ ⟴

 

_ now. _

 

Sarah turned and slid the bolt that made the private booths actually private, then planted herself next to Rachel on the plush red bench, angling her body to face her.

“Tough week?” she asked, wanting to run her rough, calloused fingers down that luxuriously soft skin of her inner arms. But she’d learnt not to touch until Rachel did.

“People can be so incredibly obtuse,” she murmured in response. “But I’m sure you know all about  _ that _ , Sarah. I imagine many people lose their common sense when it comes to you.” She tugged at one of the belt loops on Sarah’s artfully torn jeans, pulling her closer, then stretched her fingers just above the waistline, stroking the bare skin she found there, “But I’m not here to talk about my working week.” Her fingers slid down to denim-clad thighs, and Sarah wriggled slightly in her seat, her pulse already jumping. Rachel liked to take her time - at first. “I’m not here to talk at all,” and her other hand tipped Sarah’s head up slightly and covered her mouth with her own. She pushed up into the kiss, parting her lips and using her tongue to part Rachel’s. She felt, rather than heard, Rachel make a small sound, and fingers tightened around her neck, then slid down to the collarbone and around the to the nape, leaving a trail of goosebumps. 

 

Sarah began to kiss her with more urgency, smashing her mouth against Rachel’s as the need for real contact deepened. The hand on her thigh gripped tighter, nails digging in, and she tried to get into a position where she could grind against it. She heard a throaty chuckle and a condescendingly amused voice saying, “Sarah...you’re such an  _ animal. _ ”

Drawing back slightly, she half snarled in response, “That’s why you keep coming back... _ ma’am.”  _

She pushed Rachel back against the seat and swung her leg around so she was half straddling her, and kissed her again, sucking on her lips, then nipping at them. She grasped her hair and pulled her head to the side, tracing the pale skin of her neck with her teeth, then her tongue, and sucking and biting the skin just under the neckline of the pristine white dress. She knew by now not to leave marks where they could be seen...but she liked leaving marks where  _ Rachel _ would see them. She liked to think about Rachel, naked, examining her perfect flesh in a mirror, marred by the small red teeth marks and livid bruises left by Sarah’s mouth. She bit down harder.

Rachel was making little pleased noises and her hands had found their way up under Sarah’s loose black top, cupping her breasts and moving her thumbs back and forth over the nipples. Sarah felt that liquid heat inside, the sensation running down her body straight to her center, and she moved slowly and deliberately, pressing down on the thigh between hers, letting out a low moan at the contact. But her own pleasure would have to wait.

She reached down and pushed up the fitted skirt. Rachel rose slightly to allow it, then moved her thighs apart.

“ _ Now, _ Sarah,” she breathed, her silver nails scratching and pinching at Sarah’s skin, making her shiver. She slid a hand up Rachel’s skirt, fingers brushing against silk and lace, a few scraps of fabric that probably cost more than she made in six months, now damp with lust. She could feel the minute movements against her hand and she grinned against the skin of Rachel’s throat. 

“Now who’s the animal?” she hissed into her ear, as she yanked the wispy material aside and sank two fingers into her. The hands on her breasts tightened almost painfully, and Rachel made a high whining noise in her throat that never failed to send a thrill through Sarah. 

 

Sarah would watch her face, enjoying the sight of the composure cracking. Often she would find Rachel looking back at her through heavy eyelids, steadily, like she was filing away the encounter for later use, even as tiny gasps escaped those perfect red lips, and she guided Sarah’s other hand to her throat, arching her neck back.

She fucked her roughly, listening to the sounds she elicited and occasionally slowing down, or stopping completely when she felt Rachel was on the verge of orgasm. She liked to take her time, at the end.

Only when she allowed herself to beg ( _sarah...please_ ) to come did Sarah relent. She sank to her knees before the now dishevelled blonde and kissed her way up her thighs ( _please_ _sarah_ ), before finally sliding her fingers back inside, adding a third, and running her tongue around her clit, then sucking on it until she felt Rachel tense around her, then relax, sighing in a satiated way as Sarah slowly removed her fingers and gently lapped at her with her tongue.

 

Sitting back on her heels, she wiped her hand across her mouth, and smirked.

 

Then she stood, and busied herself at the table, pulling out the dishrag that was still in her back pocket to wipe up a non-existent spill, averting her gaze while Rachel adjusted herself and regained her composure. When Sarah met her eyes again, she looked exactly as she did when she walked in, if slightly less tense. It was like the last hour had been a dream. She pushed the almost empty glass across the table with her fingertips, then pulled her phone back the same way, tapping a button and letting her eyes flick down the screen.

 

“Same again, ma’am?” Sarah asked, picking up the toothpick and sucking the olives off, just to see Rachel wince slightly at the slurping noise.

She continued to check her phone as she replied in a cool, distant voice,

 

“Another martini, yes. That will be all, Sarah.”

 

Sarah gave a mock salute. “Yes, ma’am.”

  
She left the booth, and returned with a fresh martini, leaving the door ajar this time. Rachel liked to see, and be seen, now that she’d had her fun. Sarah would be left wanting, at least until the end of her shift. Not that she couldn’t take another ten minutes to finish herself off, but she kind of liked it.

**Author's Note:**

> I wanna explode  
> Watch me, I'm a lucky girl  
> See I, I like you  
> So won't you pay if you wanna go down  
> I love to watch you, honey  
> You need me so let's see  
> What do you care, if you want to  
> You should pay if you wanna go  
> Don't walk away  
> I wanna touch you, slowly  
> I'm a lonely girl  
> Come on you want to  
> So won't you pay if you want to go  
> I'd love to hurt you, easy  
> I've got you, inside me  
> What do you care, if you want to  
> You should pay if you wanna go  
> Don't walk away  
> Don't walk away love  
> Don't walk away  
> Just stay right here  
> -explode by Uh Huh Her


End file.
